


He's Not Here

by dammitsammy



Category: Graceland (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Drug Withdrawal, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Miscarriage, Past Drug Addiction, Platonic Cuddling, Season 3 Spoilers, Swearing, accidental "Next to Normal" reference if you squint, i refuse to proofread this, miscarriage symptoms, no one can convince me that this is not canon, sometimes you gotta fix things yourself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:35:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23538466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dammitsammy/pseuds/dammitsammy
Summary: When Charlie loses her baby in season 3, she calls the one person she can really confide in.
Relationships: Charlie DeMarco & Mike Warren
Comments: 11
Kudos: 26





	1. Chapter 1

It was 2:27 am when Mike’s phone buzzed. The screen lit up the ceiling and burned into his eyes as he squinted awake, the buzzes jarring him out of his much-needed sleep.

Who the hell would—

_Charlie_.

There was no hesitation.

“Charlie? What the— _mmmhhh_ —what is it?”

“Mike?”

“Yeah, Charlie, it’s me, I’m up, I’m up. What’s up? Are you okay?”

“Mike, I—” There was a sharp noise on the other end, like she had just let out a huge breath. “Oh, God, Mike.”

Charlie was quiet for a while. Mike listened to her breathing on the line. God, he missed her. It was almost comforting, the quiet between them. He was hesitant to break it, but his concern was growing.

“Charlie, are you okay?”

Another beat of silence. Suddenly the quiet wasn’t comforting anymore. It was unnerving.

Finally she spoke.

“Mikey, I lost…” She trailed off. This time the noise on the line was definitely a sob. “I lost the baby, Mike. He’s gone.”

_Fuck._

Mike’s heart dropped into his stomach as he sat upright. “Oh, _Charlie_.”

“I thought I could do it, I could keep him safe. I thought I could—I could be a mom, you know? I thought I could do it.”

Mike’s throat tightened. He should be there, and hearing Charlie grieve alone was breaking his heart.

“Charlie, I…” Nothing he could say would make this better, and he knew it. Mike wiped his eyes and let out a sharp sting of air. “Listen, where are you? I’m coming.”

“Mike, it’s like 3 in the morning, I’m in Florida, are you crazy?”

“I think I can find a flight. I’ll be there first thing, I promise.”

“Mikey, no. You stay there. I’m coming home, okay? I promise I’m coming home. Just be there for me? I don’t wanna be alone.”

“Are you alone right now?”

“Nah, Amber’s here, she’s taking care of me.”

Mike stiffened a little. “I don’t trust her, Charlie.”

“Well, I do. She saved my life, Mike. And besides, she’s what I’ve got right now—Mike, don’t cry, don’t you fucking dare. If you start, I swear to God I will too.”

“I’m not…” Who was he kidding? “I was so happy for you when you told me you kept it, and now… ‘m sorry, Charlie, I’m just so sorry.”

“I know. I know, baby.”

There was quiet on the line again, and for a few moments they just listened to each other, not saying anything.

Finally Mike broke the silence again.

“Does Paul know?”

“No, I didn’t—he didn’t know I never went through with it. I never told him. I couldn’t put him through that shit again.” Charlie sniffled. “I mean, he already grieved once. I can’t make him do that again. You were the only person who knew, Mike.”

Mike couldn’t help feeling guilty at that, uneasy knowing something that Paul should have known first. Still, he and Charlie confided nearly everything in each other. Mike was pretty sure that Charlie was one of the only people who would never lie to him in the house. To have no secrets between each other, that was rare in Graceland. And Mike wouldn’t dare give that up for anything.

Besides, how many times had Charlie been there for him? It was the least he could do now, keeping his friend’s confidence.

An hour later, Charlie hung up as she boarded her flight. There was no sleeping after that, and Mike didn't even try. Full of nerves and worry, he slipped downstairs to wait for his friend. 

* * *

The morning was still gray by the time Charlie’s key turned in the lock. Mike was curled up on the couch, napping under a throw blanket and a hoodie. Next to him sat the giant teddy bear he’d gotten in the hospital three years ago. Charlie grinned at the memory, back when Mike was just a fresh faced newbie straight out of the academy. Back when all this shit was just getting started. 

That Mike was young and inexperienced, very by-the-book. That Mike didn't believe in secrets. That Mike was more of a freshly adopted puppy than a true friend -- sweet, but replaceable. 

The Mike that was sleeping on the couch in front of her, on the other hand, was one that had seen too much, known too much, felt too much. He was anything but a newbie. He'd seen the shit that was the undercover world, and he'd paid so damn much to stay here. And yet, here he was, willing to wait up all night just to comfort her. Despite all the shit that's happened in those three years, Charlie wouldn't trade this Mike for anything. This Mike was a real, honest to God _friend_. Those were way too rare in this job.

She left her suitcase by the door and walked over. She almost didn’t want to disturb him, but she sat down next to him anyway. Mike stirred awake, and Charlie curled up in his arms, her head on his chest. His arms rested on her ribs, and the two held each other for a while. 

After a few minutes she murmured, “You know what? He was gonna be a boy.”

“Yeah?” Mike groaned in his I-just-woke-up voice. 

“Yeah. I was thinking about naming him after you.”

“Mikey DeMarco? Seriously?”

“No, _Levi_ , dumbass. Of course it would've been Mike.”

“I dunno, I think Johnny would’ve sounded better.”

“You think I’d ever give Johnny that satisfaction? No, I think I would have done something like Gabriel, maybe, or Dante. What do you think of Dante?”

“I think I arrested a Dante once.”

“Yeah? Was he hot?”

“Psssh. _Unfairly_ hot. Very Italian.”

“So am I, dumbass.”

“What about Gabriel? I kinda like that one.”

“Really rolls off the tongue, yeah?” Charlie reached forward and picked up Mike’s tea mug, by now cold and half empty. “Here’s to you, Gabriel. I’ll see you again someday." She choked up a little as she continued. "Wait for Mama, okay?”

She was shaking as she set the mug down, trying her damnedest not to start crying again.

“Here, come here,” Mike offered as she buried her face in his shoulder again. “You want me to get you anything?”

“As much booze as you can find. I’m way too fucking sober for this.”

"Agreed."


	2. What doesn't kill me, doesn't kill me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Mike's going through withdrawal, he has a lot more in common with Charlie than they expected.

It was absolutely unfair, Charlie decided. Unfair that even though she was no longer pregnant, her body still _felt_ pregnant. And that included the random bouts of nausea at ungodly hours of the morning.

She was still used to the routine, though, so she was hardly surprised when she dragged herself to the bathroom at about 3 am to throw up. As she coughed and shuddered, she rested her forehead against the toilet seat. Her heavy eyelids drifted shut, just for a brief moment, and she heaved a small sob. She had never felt so utterly alone as she did now.

Her day job didn't afford her much opportunity to grieve, not really. It was only at hours like this that she had the emotional space to confront her feelings: that she had lost her child, that she couldn't save them, that she was no longer a mother.

Her circling thoughts were interrupted by a soft shuffling from down the hall. An erratic pounding on the door jolted her awake. "Busy," she groaned, but the door swung open and a frantic-looking Mike burst through.

"I said busy-"

"Move, I gotta-"

Charlie jumped out of the way just in time as Mike doubled over, heaving for breath as he vomited into the bowl. She grabbed a washcloth for her face, and offered one to Mike.

"You look like shit."

Mike took the cloth without looking up. "Thanks, you too."

"Water?"

Mike gasped heavily. "Yeah. Please."

Charlie nodded and stumbled down to the dark kitchen, returning with two glasses. "Of all the fucked up coincidences," she muttered to herself.

When she returned to the bathroom she found Mike cleaning up. She offered him a glass and invited him to sit with her on the floor.

"Withdrawal still giving you shit?"  
"Mm-hm. Thought I'd be over it by now, but I guess it takes a while. I've been clean for about nine days now."

"Proud of you, kiddo! That takes serious guts."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. One day at a time, that whole thing."

"You doing okay?"

"Other than throwing up in the middle of the night?"

"No shit. I mean up here, in your head. Withdrawal's a real bitch, it'll mess with your head left and right."

Mike shifted a little and cracked his neck. "Yeah, I mean… I guess I've got a little more anxiety than usual, and not to mention none of this is doing my ADHD any favors. Mostly I just can't sleep." He looked like he wanted to say more, but he changed his mind and redirected.

"What about you? You doing okay? It's only been what, a couple weeks since… you know."

Charlie leaned her head back against the wall and shut her eyes briefly. "Yeah, I know. I guess my fucking body doesn't know it's not pregnant anymore. Still thinks it has to throw up at the slightest inconvenience."

"I'm sorry."

"Hey, it's what happens." She leaned her head on his arm. "I still dream about him, though."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. And then when I wake up and he's not there anymore, I just… you know how sometimes if you try really hard you can remember the tail end of your dream? I keep trying not to wake up at all. Just so I can have a few more minutes with him. But then I have to wake up and do my job like nothing's different, and I just… it's not fair. It's not fucking fair."

"No, it's not." Mike stroked her hair a little. "It's not fair at all. And I kinda get it."

"You do?"

"Yeah. I mean, mine are pretty much the opposite, but yeah."

"What are yours about?"

"Sid, mostly. And the hospital. And then it feels like I can't breathe, but I can't wake up either, no matter how hard I try. And it feels so, _so_ fucking real."

He didn't tell her that sometimes he saw Paige, too, standing at the foot of his bed.

"Kinda like sleep paralysis, then? And Sid's your demon?"

Mike thought about it for a moment. "I guess so, kinda, yeah."

"Shit, that's rough. I'm sorry."

"No, no, it's not that bad." _Yes it is._

Mike checked his watch. "We should probably get back to bed, then. It's almost 3:30, we got work."

"Can't we just call in sick?"

"Wish we could, Chuck. Then I could spend all day forcing you to watch all those stupid Westerns from the Bello case."

"Never gonna happen, Mikey Mike."

"Fair's fair! I had to, so should you."

"Yeah, you did that to yourself."

"For a _case_!"

"It was unnecessary!"

"It helped me get close, didn't it?"

"You coulda done it a thousand different ways, Sundance. You just happen to have a self torture complex."

"You have no sympathy, you know that?"

"Shhh- you'll wake Johnny."

"So? At least he likes my movies."

"He absolutely does _not!_ " Charlie whisper-yelled from her doorway before quickly shutting it.

Mike almost protested, but he chuckled to himself and let her have the last word.

That night he didn't dream about Sid, or Paige, or Jangles. He didn't dream at all.

**Author's Note:**

> to any Next To Normal fans who may have been traumatized by the names I used, I'm very sorry. (in my defense, I've been wanting to use the name Gabriel for a loooooooooong time for personal reasons)


End file.
